


Just a Dream

by Fogfire



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 12:43:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16387967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fogfire/pseuds/Fogfire





	Just a Dream

Living in London is amazing, most of the time. It’s a big city, everything you could possible need, is never far away but it’s still not as crowded as New York for example. Not that you would know if New York was crowded or not. You haven’t been there before.

But, as you said, it’s only amazing most of the time. London is known for its rainy weather and if you’re smart, you always carry an umbrella with you.

It’s Friday, dark and dinnertime and it’s raining. The perfect weather to be cuddled up in front of a fireplace, hot chocolate warming you from the inside. But you don’t have a fire place and you’re still not home. The rain has already soaked through every single particle of your clothing, your black hair is sticking to your head and you’re nearly blind from the raindrops clinging to your glasses.

There are a million questions going through your head, from „Why don’t I have an umbrella?“ to „Does the small plastic bag protect my folders from the rain?“

When you nearly collide with a lamppost, you take of your glasses and try to wipe them clean, or at least a bit less dirty. Your hands are cold, and shaky and a bit too numb for such a task. You feel the bag with all the important documents slip out from under your coat and for a second time freezes as you decide what is worse: The documents getting wet or your glasses dropping to the ground – you would have a hard time finding them again. Just as time unfreezes a hand catches the falling bag, picking it up. You hear your glasses clattering on the ground and stare at them, another hand picking them up. You follow the hand, taking in the tattoos on the slightly darker skin.

It’s a guys hand, he’s holding an umbrella in his other hand, giving it to you and stepping closer at the same time as to stay under the umbrella too.

Maybe it’s the cold and the rain and the fact that you are pretty tired, but you stare at his hands handing you your bag. He has a tattoo on one hand that looks like a henna painting but somehow you know that it isn’t henna. You have seen it somewhere else but you stare at his long, slender fingers drying your glasses and cleaning them, not able to think. He puts the glasses back onto your nose with gentle touches and that seem to wake you up. You look up at him, see his face and gasp. And he laughs, tongue between teeths and eyes crinkled from amusement. „So you know me?“ He giggles and you can’t help but stare dumbfoundedly. Pretty normal, considering that the one and only Zayne Malik is standing before you.

„Can I walk you home?“ You nod numbly but don’t move your feet. „Come on.“, he mumbles, linking his arm through yours but stopping. „You’re soaking, wait.“ And he shrugs of his coat – that thick leather jacket you always imagined him in – and puts it around your shoulders before linking his arm through yours again. „It’s this way, we need to get you dry again.“ „How do you know where I live?“ You manage to walk with him, you manage to breath evenly, to not freak out about the fact that you are wearing his jacket and his arm is touching yours! „You didn’t notice? I moved into the house down the street two months ago. I already thought you didn’t know who I was because you always sprinted past me in the morning without greeting.“ You blush deeply. „I’m always late for the bus.“ He laughs and if you had thought he was beautiful before, you are now corrected – he’s marvellous. „I figured. Kinda know your routine by now. Haven’t seen you come back the whole day, and you forgot your umbrella at home in the morning, so I was a little bit worried.“ „Are you stalking me?“ „Naaah, I would never. I’m just using my free time to get my courage up to ask you out.“ You laugh about it and change the subject fast. He has to be joking.

„How can you even walk around without a bodyguard?“ „Good question. But media hasn’t found out yet, that I moved and I haven’t been spotted here yet. Might have something to do with the fact that I don’t leave the house often when I’m on break and my great moustache collection for when I need to go grocery shopping.“ „You’re kidding! You don’t wear moustaches!“ „You think I’m kidding, but I’m serious!“

You’re almost sad when you reach your doorstep. It was so nice (and unexpected) to meet him and talking to him is as easy as breathing. Who would have known, that the usually quiet Zayn Malik can make you laugh so much? „Oh, so that’s your name?“, he mutters, looking intently at the name tag beside your door. „Oh! I totally forgot to introduce me!“ You stretch out your hand and he takes it, laughing. „Well, I’m Zayn, by the way, your new neighbour.“

„Do you want to come in?“ The words are out, before you can even process the fact, that you are the one speaking. You’re just about to take them back when a bright smile lights up Zayns face. „Thank god, I was hoping you would ask.“ You’re a bit confused, but hey, it’s Zayn and you open the door of your flat before he realizes what a normal girl you actually are and runs away. „I’m going to change into dry clothes. Do you want some tea? Just make your self comfortable on the couch.“

You rush to you room, putting on dry clothes and silently hoping that he doesn’t look to closely into the mess that is your home. Sculptures and photographs and drawings everywhere, and not all of them are good enough to be shown to others, at least in your eyes.

When you get back to the living rooms, to cups of tea in your hands, you nearly drop the tea. Not only is Zayn sitting on your couch, studying one of your favourite sculptures, no. He is doing that shirtless!

As he turns the sculpture around a bit, he catches you staying there, absolutely frozen in place and blushes (blushes!!). „Hi.“ „Eh… why… are you…“ „Shirtless? Do you like it?“ His tone is desperately trying to be light and teasing, but being shy yourself you can easily tell, that he is trying to hide a bit of edginess.

„Well… I can’t say I don’t like it, but… why?“ He blushes even more. „Hypothetically speaking I might fancy my neighbour a bit and after trying to get her to notice me for so long I thought it was time for the big guns.“ He flexes his arms dorkily and it looks so cute, you can’t help but laugh.

„Hypothetically speaking I’m really sorry for not noticing you earlier.“ He grins, the one where he puts his tongue between his teeth.

„Hypothetically speaking…“, his voice breaks a bit, just enough raspiness in it to send shivers down your spine, „I really want to kiss you right now.“ Your hands shake and you have to put the tea away before you really let it drop. You sit next to him, fingers trembling, voice even more. „Well, you could.“ „Hypothetically speaking?“ „I would prefer reality actually?“ „Alright then.“ He is still grinning and you are too, and yes, when those two bright smiles are pressed lightly against each other, it feels just as brilliant as it sounds.

\- - -

You blink, lazily. The light’s pretty dim in the room and you need a moment to adjust your brain to reality. What a nice dream. You smile, tired, rub your hands across your face to wake up a bit more. You press your fingers against your temple, feel the cold metal of two rings against your skin. You like that feeling, the sincerity of what these rings mean. Forever and always.

A warm body shifts next to you, hot breath against your neck, a deep rumbling voice. „What are doing up already? It’s way to early!“ You turn towards your husband, smile, although he can’t see it, his eyes are still closed but he nuzzles his face into your neck, always trying to get a bit closer. „I had a really nice dream.“ „Yeah? What about?“ „How we met.“


End file.
